A Small Irritation
by Southern Hearts
Summary: "I don't want the new baby to be an airbender either," he bit down hard on his bottom lip, "That's bad, right?" Mai huffed. "Yeah, it kind of is," she said bluntly.


**A Small Irritation**

After the war, the Avatar was a frequent visitor to the Fire Nation palace, so much in fact, that the Fire Lord had a set of rooms permanently reserved and a special stable build for Appa. Over the years additional features had been added to these rooms, mainly a larger bed to accommodate Aang and Katara following their marriage, and cots for the children. These visits worked out rather well for the young parents, as while they were able to discuss politics, attend meetings and banquets, their children would be taken care of by the stream of nursemaids who were assigned to guarding Zuko's young daughter.

Katara called it excessive.

Zuko called it common sense.

And Mai couldn't be bothered to get in the middle of one of their arguments, preferring to watch the debate from the background as Aang tried – _and failed_ – to mediate between them.

As the Gaang grew older and responsibilities kept them from traveling more, these visits diminished somewhat, especially with the ever-growing Republic City under their care. By the time their eldest children no longer required an army of nursemaids, Aang often visited the palace on his own, but never stayed more than a day or two before returning to his family on Air Temple Island.

Indeed, it had been over a year since Aang or Katara had brought any of their children along, which made this particular visit somewhat surprising.

Mai and Zuko walked outside together to greet the landing sky bison in the courtyard of the palace. Servants were already prepared with refreshments for Appa's passengers and a hearty meal for the bison himself. Appa came in, greeting the Fire Lord and his Lady with a low moan as he landed. Zuko stepped forward to pet the great beast on the head, smiling fondly. The passengers leapt down from the saddle, falling to the earth with ease.

Unexpectedly, Aang traveled with only one member of his family this time, his oldest child, Bumi.

A wild haired little thing with blue eyes and a toothy grin, he waved enthusiastically at Zuko and Mai as his father set him down carefully on the flag stoned ground of the courtyard. He wore a loose, blue shirt, already stained and had something strapped to his back. Mai thought it might be a club and was firmly reminded of the boy's uncle in their younger days. Aang brushed his clothes off casually, turning to grasp Zuko's arm and pull the older man into a hug.

"Just the two of you?" Zuko asked, patting Aang on the back.

Once upon a time, the young Fire Lord had towered over his younger pupil, but the Avatar had grown in many ways since then. In his teenage years, the airbender had hit a growth spurt and now stood the tallest in their group of friends. Zuko looked at Bumi with a nostalgic sort of smile, as though remembering a time when the boy's father seemed so childlike.

Aang nodded as he released his friend and laid a hand on Bumi's head, smiling sheepishly.

"Katara hasn't been up for much traveling, what with the baby and everything," a spark of paternal pride flittered into Aang's grey gaze at the mention of his third and unborn child, "Bumi and I thought we'd give her a little break."

"But mainly cause Mom's scary when she's pregnant," the little boy piped up helpfully, "And Dad doesn't want to get frozen to the ceiling again."

Mai hid a smile behind her hand, Zuko laughed outright and Aang blushed scarlet.

"The ceiling?" Zuko chocked out between chortles.

The Avatar sighed.

"It's…been a rough few weeks," he said forlornly, ruffing Bumi's hair, "Not that this little prankster has been helping with that. Trying to make your Mom go grey premature, _aren't we_?"

"Well, at least we know which side he gets it from," Mai commented dryly, drawing another embarrassed look from Aang.

"_Heh_, I guess," but he looked a little pleased, "Kid's got the spirit of an airbender."

Mai noticed the boy's cheeks turn a cherry red and he buried his face in his father's robes, looking a little stunned. Mai frowned at the reaction before she returned her attention to Aang.

The Avatar reached forward to clasp her hands as they greeted one another and then the four of them headed inside for some lunch. Aang and Zuko immediately launched into a recounting of their lives since the last time they had seen one another while Mai directed the servants, only half listening to the men's conversation.

They sat outside in the gardens, a table had been set up under one of the large trees, silken cushions placed on the ground for seating. A selection of vegetable dishes had been prepared specifically for the Air Nomad's diet along with several meat courses for the rest of them. It was an early summer afternoon; the air was fresh and the garden in full bloom. Katara's baby would be due in the autumn, but it was looking to be a hot summer before then. Mai gave an inward wince of sympathy; it was not the most comfortable time to be pregnant.

She found her eyes wondering to Aang's son. He was picking at his food with his chopsticks, sighing every now and then. Perhaps he was bored. She didn't miss the several worried looks his father sent him throughout the meal, or the child's clearly forced smile whenever he caught Aang looking. Zuko turned his attention to the boy only once, to ask how he was and apologize for their daughter's absence. She was visiting her great uncle in Ba Sing Se and wasn't around to play with him.

Bumi scrunched up his nose and stated;

"That's okay! She's a girl! I bet she just wants to play with dollies, like Kya!"

"You two play games together all the time," Aang pointed out, frowning a little at his son, "Kya hardly pays attention to her dolls when her big brother's around."

Bumi blushed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like;

"_Not anymore_."

Aang seemed to have heard it too, because he sighed sadly, but said nothing more on the subject. Instead, he smiled at Mai and Zuko awkwardly and continued with his meal.

The conversation turned to their families. Zuko went on and on about their daughter's firebending lessons and then Aang, grinning widely, revealed that Kya had been found to be a waterbender. Mai noticed Bumi's face cloud over at the mention, but didn't pay it much mind. The Avatar though, seeming to detect his son's change in mood, very quickly left the topic of his only daughter behind.

It wasn't long before they finished their meal and Zuko was harrying Aang to meet some general or other concerning the prevention of a potential conflict in such and so a place. Mai had heard the political drabble all week and was secretly glad for the distraction from it. Zuko would no doubt inform her of the outcome when he returned.

It was then that Mai noticed something the men had apparently forgotten.

Still sitting across from her, Bumi sat picking his nails, looking completely disinterested in anything. Mai raised an eyebrow.

She had practically _invented_ the disinterested look and this boy was not doing the best job at mimicking it. His foot was tapping rapidly under the table, he kept biting his bottom lip and his eyes wondered stealthily from one place to another. Mai had honestly never had much contact with the Avatar's children. She'd watched them play around the palace before but had had no reason to get to know them on any level beyond that. The little she did remember about Bumi though, was not encouraging.

Rambunctious seemed too light a word.

This boy was _always_ in trouble.

If it wasn't tricking servants, sneaking into places he shouldn't and just generally giving his mother a heart attack, Bumi could always be found hatching some diabolical plot.

Not doing anything was as suspicious as the boy could act.

"You want to feed the turtle ducks, or something?" she asked, hoping he'd terrorize the animals and leave her alone.

Bumi shrugged.

"'_kay_," he mumbled.

She gave him a loaf of bread off the table and pointed him in the direction of the pond. When he'd left, she directed the servants in their duties and went about her own work. She returned though, within twenty minutes, sure she was going to find the garden in chaos already. Instead, all she saw was Bumi sitting hunched up by the turtle-duck pond, flicking crumbs into the water.

Frowning, she shook her head and left.

She returned three more times, at each instance sure she would find him up to something. But all he did was sit and mope around.

Reminded far too much of her husband in his most brooding years, she decided to take a break and sit by the pond herself. Summoning more bread up from the kitchens, she dumped the loaves beside Bumi as she took her seat. The boy looked up in surprise, not having heard her approach.

He'd been crying.

Mai inwardly sighed.

The last thing she wanted was an angry, pregnant Katara careening into the palace because she heard something had upset her son. And although she appreciated the motherly fierceness the waterbender often displayed, it was also fairly annoying. In the Avatar's absence though, she had no one to direct the boy to. She'd have to deal with this small irritation herself.

"I brought you more bread," she said dryly.

"Oh, thanks," he said, watching her cautiously and taking the moment to wipe his nose on his sleeve.

Mai's brow furrowed in distaste.

"You look like a hog-monkey with your face all red and squished up like that," she commented bluntly, "It's _stupid_."

He shot her an indignant glare.

"Yeah? Well you look as pointy faced as an elephant rat," he retorted, sticking his tongue out at her, "It's _stupider_."

_So there's a little backbone in there._

"I'm not the one moping like a spoilt brat," she countered.

"I am not!" Bumi yelled, turning red and looking about ready to start crying again.

"Whatever," she waved him off, "At least tell me you're going to stop soon."

He frowned.

"Why do you care?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's getting annoying."

"Oh," he seemed to deflate at that, "Sorry."

Even after years as a mother, Mai had never been ideal with soothing her daughter's emotions or playing the sympathetic ear. She had done it, not well, but because she cared. Because she loved her daughter and unlike her own mother, Mai had promised she would always listen. But she _knew_ her child… other people's kids?

_Definitely not her strong point. _

"Why are you crying?" she winced as she asked. Well, she supposed it had to be done.

"It's nothing," the boy said dejectedly.

She shrugged.

"Fine," she said simply, "Not my business anyway, I'll just tell the Avatar-"

"No! No! No! Don't tell Dad!" Bumi begged, his eyes widening, "I'll tell you! I will! Just don't tell Dad, promise me, okay?"

She raised an eyebrow, watching the little boy squirm and turn even redder. Something told her she was about to dig herself into something she really didn't want to be part of. For the sake of her own peace though, she agreed.

"Alright," she nodded, "So tell."

His shoulders sagged, from relief or defeat, Mai wasn't sure. He picked up another loaf of bread and twisted off a piece, scrounging it up in his hands.

"Cause I'm bad," Bumi sniffed, throwing the bread at the turtle-ducks, "I keep wishing for something awful."

"What's that?" Mai asked despite herself.

"I don't want the new baby to be an airbender either," he bit down hard on his bottom lip, "That's bad, right?"

Mai huffed.

"Yeah, it kind of is," she said bluntly, "Wishing is pointless, it's not going to get you anywhere."

Bumi blinked.

"I think you're missing the point," he retorted dryly.

"There's a point to whining?" Mai raised an eyebrow.

They stared at one another for several minutes, and then slowly, the boy's lips formed a humourless smile.

"I guess you're right," he acknowledged.

Mai rolled her eyes, watching as the tiny turtle-ducklings fought over every morsel of food, snapping and hissing at each other. As she watched, something occurred to her and she looked back at Bumi, his head bowed.

"_You_ wanted to be an airbender?"

The kid shrugged.

"I don't know," he rubbed his arm, "Maybe."

"You'd want to shave your head and meditate all day?" Mai snorted, "Seems rather dull."

He just shrugged again, but a look of fierce thought entered his face and she knew he was considering her words.

"I don't know," he said again, "It might not be so bad..."

"Right," Mai snorted, disbelievingly.

He shot her another glare.

"You're _the_ Fire Lady," he accused, "Aren't you _supposed_ to be all diplomatic and gracious."

"You're _the_ Avatar's son," she returned, mimicking his tone, "Aren't you _supposed_ to be a great bender?"

He flinched, clearly hurt by the words. Mai mildly regretted them, but didn't apologize. Being more of an introvert than previous Fire Ladies, it had taken Mai time to win the loyalty of her people. In those early years of her marriage, she had struggled to be everything a Fire Lady was expected to be. This wasn't a topic she would address now, with this _boy._

"Sorry," he was the one to say surprisingly.

She sighed.

Great, now the kid was moping again.

"Why are you telling me all of this? Go tell your parents, that's what they're for," she pressed.

He looked up, his turn to look surprised, but he hid it quickly.

"I don't know," Bumi shrugged, smirking slightly, "Maybe cause I know it'll irritate you. Plus, I don't want Mom and Dad worrying, they do that enough already, _believe me_."

Mai could. She'd _met_ Katara after all.

"Well, that seems unproductive," she pointed out.

He looked at her like she had grown a second head and burst out into laughter. It was a little strained and a little bitter, but it was relieving too. His blue eyes practically shone when he looked at her.

"You're really weird," he told her directly.

"You're really irritating," she responded sarcastically, "Not to mention boring."

"_Boring?_" he exclaimed indignantly, "How am _I _boring?"

"_Oh_ woe is me, I wasn't born a bender. Oh, how unfair the world is," she fluttered her eyes and spoke in a mocking tone.

He blinked at her for several moments, and then snorted loudly.

"_Now_ you look really stupid," he told her flatly.

"No more than you," she shot back easily.

He shook his head, still laughing slightly.

"Seriously though kid, you should tell your mom," Mai thought about how she might feel if this were her child and she didn't like that at all, "Knowing Katara, she'll understand."

Bumi rolled his eyes and looked away, shaking his head again. He practically pelted the poor turtle-ducks with bread bombs as frustration furrowed his brow. The small creatures flapped their wings and hissed in derision at him, before swimming away.

"Why do you think my sister isn't with Dad and me? Kya _waterbent_ for the first time and now Mom's on a mission to get her trained," Bumi said gloomily, finally having run out of bread, "Dad was really happy too. I don't get it though, I thought he wanted her to be an airbender…"

He huffed.

"Why do ya think I didn't get to be an airbender?" he asked, his voice awfully whiny, "Now Dad's _still_ alone…"

Mai raised an eyebrow disbelievingly, was the kid seriously fishing for sympathy with her of all people? He must be an idiot. She glanced at him, her face passive and considered her words; the last thing she needed to deal with right now was an irate Avatar.

"You know Master Piandao, don't you?" she asked.

Bumi nodded.

"Uncle Sokka talks about him all the time!" he said proudly.

"Both of his parents were powerful firebenders, but I bet you've never even heard of them," she smiled acidly, "Bendings not everything, you know."

"Uncle Sokka says that too," Bumi stared at his feet, "I heard the Air Acolytes talking about it though. All the Air Nomad kids were born airbenders. I'm the first ever known kid of an airbender not to be one."

"Well Kya's not one either," Mai pointed out.

"But she can _waterbend_!" he stressed, as though that were the most important thing.

Ah. So there in lay the confusion. Mai doubted that, even if he felt it, Aang would show his disappointment to his children. He just wasn't that type of guy, but she suspected Bumi had been expecting Kya to receive a little when it was found out she couldn't airbend either. Now he felt inadequate, the only non-bender in a family of benders. Must be rough, especially with your Dad as the Avatar.

She supposed she couldn't just tell him to suck it up.

That might cause some diplomatic problems.

"And what can _you _do?" she drawled.

He sighed, scuffing his heel against the ground.

"Nothing," he muttered dejectedly.

"Nothing?" Mai repeated, "What about that thing on your back?"

"My boomerang?" he took the thing Mai had originally thought was a club off and held it in his hands, "Uncle Sokka's been teaching me. He says I picked it up real quick, but I don't think that's…"

"Oh. _The_ boomerang," Mai could feel the slight smirk appear on her face as she looked down at the bent piece of wood. Years ago, she had just happened to hear of the number of occasions when a certain Water Tribesman's boomerang had come into contact with her husband's head. Nothing indeed.

"Show me," she commanded, crossing her arms and adopting a disinterested look, "I've got little better to do. Go on, try and impress me."

He shot her a glare, but stood up and complied. She watched as the boomerang was flung out and up into the blue sky, circling around the garden, before being caught once more by the brat. A look of playful elation entered his face and he sent the weapon soaring off again.

After about five throws – really, that was five times too much for Mai – she stopped him. His hand eye coordination was excellent, she could see that at least and her mind started working with possibilities. She had been meaning to practice a little anyway…

"Not bad, I guess," then an idea occurred to her, "Hey, how about I teach you a _real_ trick?"

Bumi looked intrigued.

A couple of hours later, the Avatar and the Fire Lord returned to the garden. Zuko had a clearly guilty look on his face, probably having realized he had left Mai alone to babysit. Aang looked like he was expecting trouble, his eyes already a well practiced apologetic.

Mai was bent down beside Bumi as they approached, whispering instructions in his ear. With a feral sort of grin, the Avatar's son nodded vigorously. When he caught sight of his father, he left Mai, running up to the airbender and grabbing his hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

"Dad! Dad!" he exclaimed, "You've got to see what I learned! It's so cool!"

Clearly caught off guard, Aang offered a hesitant smile and let his son drag him towards where Mai was standing. Zuko frowned a little, clearly not trusting the small smile planted on his wife's usually serene face. The tree beside the turtle-duck pond gave obvious indication of their work and Mai was amused to watch her husband shift uneasily as he sidled up beside her.

"Watch this!" the boy said loudly, turning to face the tree, which was about twenty yards from where they stood.

"Mai," Zuko's voice was boarder line begging, "Please don't tell me you-?"

He never finished the sentence. Bumi let the first knife fly from his sleeve. It embedded itself into the tree with a loud _thunk!_ Mai could have sworn Zuko muttered something about angry waterbenders coming after them, but she duly ignored him, interested for the time being in her pupil's progress as he fired more blades at the target.

Bumi was a fast learner.

The knives pierced the bark of the tree in quick succession, burying their blades firmly into the wood one after the other. When the four knives were thrown, all perfectly in a straight, vertical line, Bumi turned to beam at his father.

Aang's face, to say the least, was interesting.

He seemed to have taken on a far away, shocked look. His mouth hung open and he had to swallow hard and force himself to look at his expectant son with a smile.

"That's uh – that's very impressive Bumi," he practically stuttered out, "You're very…_accurate_."

Mai hid a smirk.

Who would have thought the Avatar's son had a gift for knife throwing?

"Isn't it awesome Dad!" Bumi cheered enthusiastically, "Wait till Mom sees this! Can I come with _every time_ you visit the Knife Lady? _Please_?"

Aang looked from Zuko to Mai helplessly, his expression beyond perplexed. Surprisingly, it took more than the usual amount of control she displayed not to burst into laughter when the Avatar muttered;

"_Katara's going to kill me."_

Zuko looked a little pale too.

Mai let a slight quirk take her lips, crinkling her eyes just a little in the direction of Bumi. The wild haired child shot her a grin that was purely conspiratorial, as though he knew exactly how his mother was going to react and couldn't wait.

_Hmmm_, maybe the kid was more interesting than she thought.

_A/N: Just something short and quick to play around with. I have a soft spot in my heart for Bumi, it has to be tough being the only non-bender in the house. I really wanted to write something with him interacting with one of the other non-bender characters. Sokka seemed too obvious a choice and I wasn't up for writing anything too mushy or sweet, so there went Ty Lee and Suki. Mai's definitely not the person to address his issues, but I think showing him that non-benders can do and learn amazing things is something she could do for him. In her own, 'just get on with it and stop being annoying,' kind of way. _

_~Southern Hearts~_


End file.
